Delicious Deception

Chapter One

With practiced preciseness, Jenkin flung open the tall windows of Crown Prince Leander's lavish bedchambers, allowing fresh air and sunlight to stream in. The valet—Prince Leander's long-serving (and long-suffering) servant—leaned his head out the window to water the flower displays with a garden hose that hooked from the ground floor all the way to the top.

Below, the familiar, playful cries of Lady Herringbone's horrible children caused him to grit his teeth. "Let's play 'Princey and Valet Sitting in a Tree' again!" squealed one, the younger one, he thought, while the older one eagerly agreed before they began climbing the handsome hawthorn in the middle of the royal garden. Hearing a toilet flush behind him, Jenkin carefully adjusted the spray nozzle, took aim, and jet-blasted them before the prince could hear. He fastened the windows back just as Leander emerged from the washrooms, closing them against the children's indignant shrieking.

"Terrorizing the nobility's offspring again, are you, Jenkin?" Leander grinned as he headed toward his mirror, the curls falling across his forehead making him look even more devastatingly debonair than usual. The valet maintained a facade of stoic professionalism, folding his hands behind him and suppressing the familiar flutter in his chest at the sight of his childhood friend.

"Simply maintaining the garden premises, Your Highness."

"Ah, good, good," Leander said in the way Jenkin recognized meant he wasn't listening. "I trust you slept well?" He extended his arms for assistance with his garments.

"Indeed, Your Highness," Jenkin replied. He caught a whiff of light, fresh lavender from the crisply laundered shirt that he smoothed flat over the prince's broad shoulders. It mingled alluringly with the prince's preferred cologne and a subtle hint of his sweat, since showers were meant for after Leander's morning workout. As he fastened the buttons across Leander's trim frame, Jenkin couldn't help but admire the sinewy muscles beneath the fabric, a result of Leander's dedicated exercise regimen.

"Excellent, excellent. I slept well enough, I suppose." The prince gave a shrug, his eyes distant for a moment before brightening again. "Now, about my upcoming birthday banquet clothes, I've given it a lot of thought, and..." Jenkin braced himself, knowing what was coming. He schooled his features into a mask of polite attentiveness, hiding his frustration as best he could. "...I've mulled it over, turned it this way and that in my head, as it were..." he waved his hands vaguely, as if to push away the nonsensical words streaming out of his mouth, "deeply considered both your insightful protestations as well as Mother's, and, well, I've decided to wear Viktor's emerald-green double-breasted frock coat," Leander announced, his voice tinged with the kind of determination one has been working up to in the midst of morning toilet use. "The one with the epaulets and gold buttons inlaid with diamonds that make them look like friendly faces."

"Your Highness," Jenkin hesitated as he weighed his words carefully, "as I said before, not only would it be considered quite gauche for a prince to wear something that once belonged to another royal as if it were a common person's hand-me-down, but that particular coat is five years out of fashion, if I may be so bold as to say." And it had certainly been quite gaudy to begin with.

Leander glanced over his shoulder as Jenkin tied his ascot in the mirror. "I'm aware, Jenkin. But it belonged to my brother, and I wish to honor him." He paused, swallowing hard. "Besides, it will show those stuffy nobles that I can fill my brother's role as their new crown prince."

Jenkin sighed inwardly, understanding the sentiment but wishing his dear friend would choose a less ostentatious way to assert himself. As he helped the prince continue his morning ministrations, Jenkin couldn't help but reflect that the loss of Prince Viktor had forced Leander to mature into a role he'd never been meant to fill, especially in the eyes of a court that had fawned fanatically over Leander's older brother.